


Wouldn't It Be Nice

by abbynormalj



Series: Café Roma verse [2]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Beach Sex, Exhibitionism, F/F, Fic with a Pic, Honeymoon, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, LET WLW FUCK, Nipple Play, Public Sex, Rule 63, SnowBaz, Vaginal Fingering, bi Simone Snow, fem!SnowBaz, kinktober - exhibitionism, lesbian Baz Pitch, once again this is set in America because I am Bad at writing British People, y'all they married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:09:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27144307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbynormalj/pseuds/abbynormalj
Summary: Some undetermined number of years after the end of Café Roma, Simone and Basima spend the day after their wedding together on a beach. The beach is almost deserted and they are on their honeymoon, so things get a little...spicy.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Café Roma verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1981372
Comments: 15
Kudos: 45





	Wouldn't It Be Nice

**Author's Note:**

> This is in the same universe as Café Roma, my other fem!snowbaz fic. You don't need to read that before you read this! Just know Simone is American in this and she and Baz attended the same University and met there.
> 
> Thank you to [Caitybug](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caitybug/pseuds/Caitybug), [sconelover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sconelover/pseuds/sconelover), and [waterwings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterwings/pseuds/waterwings) for beta reading! You are all so lovely <3
> 
> Also, yes, this is a day 21 Kinktober prompt. I don't plan on doing any other days, but the "exhibitionism" prompt just took a hold of me and wrung a fic and a pic from my brain.

**Simone**

Monday morning began foggy and chilly, but it’s warmed up since then. The beach is nearly deserted, though. Basima went for a walk a few minutes ago and my only company are the waves and the seagulls. I’m so warm, even in the shade of the umbrella, and the waves are doing their best to lull me into a stupor. 

My last coherent thought as I succumb to sleep is of my wife in bed this morning. The lovely expanse of her naked back that I’d trailed kisses down, 

down 

down...

When I wake, my dream comes back to me in stops and starts. Flashes of her skin, my hand in her hair, her head between my legs...

I groan into my crossed arms and press my hips down into the towel below me. I can’t do this _in public._ There are other people at this beach. (There aren’t many, but I can see surfers in the waves and I’m sure more beach-goers lurk behind the large umbrella that’s blocking me from the sunshine.)

But the thought of getting myself off in a public place without anyone noticing just makes me... _hotter._ I shuffle my hips some to get a strategic mound of sand in just the right position between my thighs. I turn my head carefully, glancing up and down the beach to check for wandering eyes. No one is sitting near enough to notice me. My only audience is a large colony of seagulls. (A few of the closest gulls are looking at our bags with beady-eyed intelligence.)

I grind against the sand in earnest, my memories of last night and my dream fresh in my mind. Baz and I know each other so well by now, she can draw pleasure from me masterfully. Just the sight of those long, elegant fingers can drive me up a wall. The way her body moves is mesmerizing. She does everything with honey-like elegance. 

_Her fingers arranged gracefully along the bow of her violin, moving with the melody. Her fingers tracing across my neck, over my chest. Her bare body against mine. Her smooth gait as she walks. Her walk..._

Her walk...

Her walk.

Baz is approaching our umbrella, strolling along the line of the tide, barefoot and tall. Her legs are _so long_. She’s shining, even in the soft lighting of the lingering fog. 

I catch her eye from my spot on the towel and can’t help grinding my hips again as I welcome her back.

“Baz. Had a good walk?”

“I did, my love,” she says, and the heat in her gaze tells me she’s noticed what I’m doing. “I see you’ve been enjoying yourself while I was gone.”

I hum at her and grind down again. She hums back, low and dark, glancing up and down the beach.

“Does it get you hot knowing someone could see you, Simone? That those surfers might be watching? That you’re disturbing the peace of these poor gulls?” She gestures to the birds, her movement smug.

My breath hitches when she takes another step toward me, her eyes hooded. 

“Yes,” I hiss, my eyes sweeping over her face, her neck, her mostly-bare torso covered in only a bandeau. To her hand, the one with the new ring. The one that matches mine. The feeling that floods me when I see our rings is _wonderful_. I want that hand on me. (I want it _in me._ ) “Care to give me a hand, darling?”

“So you think you can stay quiet enough not to bother the old straight couple over there?” She nods to the side of the umbrella blocked from my view.

“Yes. Basima, please. Need you. Want you,” I whine. Her eyes flash and she takes another step toward me, as if drawn by a magnet.

“Do you think you can stay still enough not to draw the attention of the surfers or disturb the birds?” 

“Yes. Baz. Anything.” My voice is a whisper now.

“Alright. Roll over and sit up, you glorious creature.”

I nearly cry in relief and follow her order. Baz steps carefully around me to sit on the towel just behind where I’ve settled and wraps her arms around me from the back. She lays a series of soft kisses along my neck and shoulder as she shifts and moves behind me. 

One of her hands trails over my stomach and down to my legs. I let her shift them, laying me out just as she likes, giving her full control of my body. She knows what I need as well as I do at this point. 

“You’re pink, Simone. Is it the sun? Or me?” she whispers into the side of my cheek. One hand trails across my thigh; she punctuates each question with a kiss to my neck.

“Both. Maybe? How should— how should I know— that?” I manage. 

Baz’s other hand brushes just under the band of my bikini top. Is she planning on exposing me on a public beach? I’m a little nervous at the thought, but the racing of my heart corresponds with a pulse of heat low in my belly and I really just need her to _touch me_.

“Please, please, Baz. Touch me.” I turn my head to whisper to her.

She hums and leans me back against her body, shifts sideways and finally, _finally_ brings one hand between my legs and cups me. 

I shift my hips into her hand, but it’s still not as firm as the sand was.

“Ba-az...” I complain.

“Patience, my love. And remember to stay quiet. The waves can only cover so much.”

I thrust up into her hand again and it feels so good already, but it’s _not enough._

Baz shifts her left hand (the one with the ring on it) so that the tips of her short nails dig into my skin and pass under the band of my top. I throw my head back across her shoulder when she reaches my nipple and pinches it.

She moves her hand to cup my breast fully with her palm and I can feel the cold metal of her ring on me. I catch a moan halfway out of my throat.

“What is it, my love?”

“Your ring. It’s cold,” I manage, my eyes fluttering closed and my head falling back against her shoulder.

“Oh... I see you like that.” Baz shifts her hand just enough that her cold ring rests over my nipple. I squirm and huff. Such a soft touch shouldn’t feel _so good,_ but something about knowing the ring represents the love we promised each other yesterday—even when I’ve loved her already for years—makes every touch more potent. 

I can tell Baz is smirking at me because her face is pressed to the side of mine. I love knowing her so well. I’ve seen every part of her and she’s seen every part of me and we both decided we only wanted more. 

I want more _now._

“Baz. More. Other hand in my pants please?”

“I love it when you ask for what you want, my love, but do you think you can be quiet enough?” 

I love the way she checks in on me. We’re married now, but she still asks. Every time. It feels so good and so safe. It doesn’t matter that we’re outside, that we’re in public. (Even if it might be a bit illegal.) I’m perfectly safe in Baz’s arms.

“Yes,” I murmur, turning to kiss her. Her lips are chapped and a touch salty. She must have been in the water while I slept.

Baz swallows up my gasp as she pushes her cold fingers past the waistband of my bikini bottoms and brushes over my hair to begin to stroke me more directly. Still, she keeps her hand from between my folds. 

I buck again and moan a complaint into her mouth. She runs her fingers up and down my slit before finally reaching two fingers into me to feel my wetness. But she’s not reaching in _enough._ I break away from her kiss to grind myself against her palm, finally getting some much-needed stimulation on my clit.

“Baz, please...” I whisper.

“Fine, you brat.” She pulls out and spreads me, finding my clit with two wet fingers and caressing either side of it.

I breathe out once, hard, only just keeping in a gasp of pleasure at the spark that flows through me. I flex the toes of my extended leg instead. (Sometimes I can stay quieter if I clench other muscles.)

“Oh Simone, you’re doing so well.” Baz’s voice is sweet and dripping. “You’d better keep a lock on your mouth, though. The birds are stirring, sweetheart.” Suddenly, she tweaks my nipple again and I gasp and writhe, which only makes her tighten her grip around my body.

“Ah, ah, ah. Too much movement will draw attention as well. We don’t want that.”

I shake my head, but her fingers are circling with more pressure now and it’s so good. _So good._

“Oh, my love,” she whispers, “are you going to come for me?” She accompanies each whisper with a kiss and a pass of one of her fingers directly over my clit. Every time, the pleasure runs to my _bones._ She knows just how to edge me without overstimulating me. The pressure in me builds and grows slowly. 

_So slowly._

I want it _now._

“Yes. _Yes_. More Baz, need more.” 

Instead of increasing the pressure, she dips two fingers back into me. In the same movement, she presses her palm against my clit and strokes me inside. My bent leg spasms at the change in sensation and I have to bring my hand to my mouth to stifle my moan. It startles a few of the birds, I think, but I’m too distracted to care. I’m _so close_ and it feels _so good_ and so _dangerous_ out in the open like this. We’re making love, the whole ocean in front of us.

Baz brings her fingers back to my clit and starts a quick circling pace and my thoughts cease completely. I’m consumed by her. 

“Come on, Simone.” She swipes a finger over me and I stifle a whine.

“Come for me,” she whispers. And I will. _I will._ I’ll do everything for her. I can feel it coursing through my body, tingling at my toes, feeding from the nipple she has twisted between her fingers.

“Keep quiet, my love. The gulls are already watching us.” Am I making noise? I can’t tell. Imagining the birds watching makes me only writhe more under her ministrations and she again shifts the pressure on my clit slightly. _Perfectly._

“Make sure not to draw the attention of any of the surfers.” Is there a surfer coming back into shore? If so, they’re sure to notice our compromising position. What will they think of us if they do? Here I am, utterly debauched by my wife on a public beach in view of a flock of seagulls and anyone who might pass us by. It’s so _wrong_ and so _perfect._

I turn my face into her neck in an attempt to keep myself quiet, but I’ve lost my ability to moderate anything happening in my body as my orgasm takes over. I shake and twitch and gasp at her throat, my knees locking. (Several of the gulls shuffle and take off from their roosting spots.)

“Yes. Take it, my love. You’re doing so well. Only a bit longer.” Basima strokes me to the end of my orgasm, softening her touch as I relax. When I whine with overstimulation, she slowly takes her hand from the front of my suit and brings it to her face, breathing in my scent. (I asked her once why she did that. “Every time I get you off with my fingers, I miss the taste of you,” she said. “Your smell is a good substitute. I can’t get enough of it.”) (I like it. I like that she wants me so much that she can’t help smelling me when we finish.)

“That was amazing,” I sigh, admiring my wife. She’s flushed and I think I’d like to trail my tongue down her chest until I find where it began. To get her back for what she just did to me.

“It was,” she says, leaning forward to kiss me softly and finally wiping her hand on our towel.

“Well that’s sex on the beach off our bucket list, I suppose.”

Baz hums and tilts her head at me. “I didn’t know you were so into public sex.”

I shrug. “Neither did I.”

“Perhaps we can use that to our advantage again.” 

I can feel a wide smile growing across my face and Baz responds with her own grin. Our eyes are locked and I reach down for her left hand. I bring it to my lips and I kiss her new ring.

“Want to go back to the rental, Baz? This was amazing and I love the beach, but I’d really like you to sit on my face until I drown in you if that’s alright.”

Baz’s eyes widen and I watch her pupils dilate.

“Yes. Let’s.”

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi to me on tumblr @[hufflepunky](https://hufflepunky.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
